


flying to the moon.

by bbnokrying



Series: bbs stuff. [8]
Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:21:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22557799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bbnokrying/pseuds/bbnokrying
Summary: a side project where i use the song 'fly me to the moon' to help write small scenes.
Series: bbs stuff. [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1337536
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	1. fly me to the moon

**Author's Note:**

> before you hop in, this is the chapter with torture. or kinda torture.  
> just b careful! ily

smiity doesnt remember what happened. not well and definitely not exactly. the camera hooked to his jacket will later provide insight to others, but he wont watch it for awhile. the last bit of the cameras footage is static and you hear the cameras static scream as it melts before it dies completely in its final few moments.

it burned, though, whatever happened. the camera had picked up no noise once it got too hot, but smiity knows there was sound because the sound of his own screams echoing off walls back into his own skull haunts him sometimes. he knows it hurt. he knows there was red, and black, and orange. hed seen a jack-o-lantern before hed stepped forward into the hall. he had thought it was cute, or funny, that the other people would have put up halloween decorations. especially in a run down building like the one they were in, full of water damage and rot.

he remembers feeling something hit him in the back of the knees, making his palms and knees ache when he fell onto cracked tiles. a hand in his hair lifting him up and slamming him forward and down into the tiles so he looses his balance, leaving cuts on his neck and face. and then, he remembers, his arms being pinned to his sides by someones knees and thighs. someone was sitting on his back and they were fucking heavy. hed said something about how that was petty fighting. that he would win if the other person wasnt fighting dirty. hed tried twisting, tried to roll over. he hadnt gotten far before there was the sound of something Scraping and then silence as he went still at the noise. so it was silent. smiity was quieter than the silence. there was a soft click that floated through the air, then what sounded like air moving quickly through something.

and then everything burned.

suddenly, it wasnt so quiet anymore.

it was very quickly apparent that that sound of air was not, in fact, air. his back had been the first to burn. easy access, he assumes. he was pinned on his stomach, so his back was closest. then his shoulders burned. the back of his arms. his back again, near the bottom of his neck.

he thinks back and decides it felt like what he thinks being sugar on top of creme brulee would feel like. slowly torched, heated up and burned until its just the right amount of burn before moving on.

he hates the sounds he let escape, let tumble from his tongue until his throat felt as raw as the rest of him. his screams, his crying. the sound of the jacket moo made him wear against the rough floor under him, scratching and rubbing and making too much noise as he struggled. the sound of his nails against the enemies own clothes. he hates the sound of sizzling, the sound his jacket made as it was burned through and melted onto his back and through to skin.

he hated the sound of his wails as the melted fabric was let harden for a few seconds and then torn from his body, taking bits of his back with it.

smiity also hates that he begged. begged for them to _stop; please - it hurts - im sorry - please, pleasepleasestop, it hurts -_

at some point smiity had gone limp, almost silent save for some wheezing and whimpers drawn by the man rolling that same torchs body over his back, harsh and digging into the raw skin. pushing blood up and out of wounds, cooling his skin with the metal before burning it again. and smiity could only lay were with blurred eyes and tears running down his cheeks, head spinning with _pain._

he doesnt remember much visually but he does know wildcat was the one to drag the enemy off him. he had watched with what remained of teary eyes turned spacy and the inconvenience of an unmoving body as delirious grabbed the flame torch that was covered in his blood and flicked it on as he turned on the now pinned enemy. smiity saw kryoz there too, with smiits favourite knife in hand. smiity had gotten to see it catching beads of blood from the held enemys throat that it had drawn itself. delirious knelt down infront of him and smiity could see his jaw moving from behind his mask at the angle he was laying at. the torch in dels hand tilts and -

hed closed his dead eyes, probably blacked out, but hes smart enough to fill in the blanks there.

hed opened his eyes next and he was so, so high in the air. there were warm hands over his ears, keeping his head still, and he could see the tops of the trees falling past his head as something carried him up. moo was next to him, here. there was something on his hands that smiit could see and then he felt the cool sensation on his back that happens when wind breezes over something wet on your skin. his jacket was torn and cut in a pile next to him. he doesnt find its much of a loss.

kryoz is above him, said moo, and hed turned his head until it hurt just to look up and see silver looking hair in the moonlight. a bloody bat hung behind him, and the knife on his hip was dripping blood. kryozs hands are also wet, but not with the same clear substance moos were. smiitys smart. he put two and two together, again.

past kryoz, he sees the helicopter, sees terroriser flying it, 407 next to him. they look serious, focused on flying the helicopter back to their base. he doesnt know if moo heard him, but hed looked at the silver hair that was waving in the wild air, at the moon in the dark sky, and in his hazed state he had whispered, 'fly me to the moon,' to them all.


	2. let me play among the stars.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ohmwrecker is a singer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is more . up for interpretation, i guess. lots of loose sentences.

ohmwrecker is a singer.

quieter than the majority when there is a majority. because hes alone. when he speaks, he supports others voices, others words, like the ensemble to a song. they sound good together, but if taken away, it doesnt also take away from the main song the forefront singers sing. he doesnt steal the show, doesnt want to, and he knows hes good at playing the role of support here, with tens of others around him.

but; he can sing solo, too.

not many people come to sit for an ensemble-ers solo, but ohm doesnt care. because he enjoys soloing just as much as he loves being ensemble. hes glad they like the full, full production, but he knows he isnt just a group of people together. he can belt, laugh, sing. and when he sings, it fills a room with bright, comforting feelings. he steps up, and his smile fills the room with selflessness and soft pride. pride in himself, and in what he can create.

he loves solos. he does them as much as he can when he has time to. he also loves supporting, being supported as the supporter, and he thrives in groups just as much as he might as a solo.

in groups, though, he doesnt only support. he does ensemble games, but hes not only good as someone to push up anothers song. he can sing along, just as loud, just as part of the main cast. he slips between roles quickly, easily, no stumble or crutch. he breathes and changes tones, sounds, pitches.

sometimes his voice gives out, but hes no less there as the role he plays. it happens, and he wont always be perfect. hes still singing. and sometimes he remembers thinking about it in the shower one night, the continuous rambles of a tired man after a long day. the thought, 'if he needs a voice to be seen as a main part of the cast, hes probably doing it wrong. ... or the cast sucks.'

sometimes, he asks to be a part of the main cast of a song. plans have been made, but theres an extra stop there, and hes in ensemble. but he wants to be there, at that show, as part of the main crew.

so he asks, 'can i sing with you?'

he says, 'let me play among the stars.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one was fun to write. a more soft tone, yeah?


	3. let me see what spring is like.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tyler is slowly freezing to death, and there is nobody here to save him this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> he almost dies but he doesnt ok hes ok

tyler is slowly freezing to death and there is nobody here to save him this time.

his icy breath catches in his throat and the loud silence of the snow drifting above him deafens him whilst the rest crunches under his body as he moves forward. slow, steady. he cant rush. his skin feels too hot despite the below freezing weather, the snow and ice. his frozen fingers ache, and his breath fogs up his vision before dissipating into the wind. the cold air burns his lungs and throat and his hair is in icy dreads. he stares at the white sheet of snow ahead of him, pushes his burning frozen hand down into the snow, and drags himself one step closer to what he wishes was hope.

his teeth clatter and his lungs heave. his eyes feel too dry and the tears on his face have frozen over his cheeks and chapped blue lips. his jacket feels non existent, soaked through with cold and frozen into a wearable icepack. his skin burns with the cold and his tongue swipes at his lips only to get scratched unpleasantly by the ice and dry skin.

steady. he can not rush.

steady. do not take off the layers that burn you.

steady, tyler breathes to himself, because steady wins the race.

he doesnt know if this race can be won, though; its a race against his own skin, mind, and body. a race against the cold and the snow, unforgiving and cold. his jaw feels locked, and his eyes are frozen open, probably. his hand digs into the snow and pulls him forward again. he crawls, and hes been crawling, and hes been crawling. the path behind him is frozen over and slick, packed snow turning dangerously icy and harsh. the new snow has covered the path hes taken already and somewhere in the snow, miles back, his phone lies. screen frozen and broken from the cold, the last call made days ago. that phone will never work again.

tyler realizes belatedly that he cant feel his body, and he wonders how long he has before his lungs breathe their last hit of ice. he sees himself shaking, he knows hes cold, but his nerves are torn and dead from the icy wind shredding them. tears pool, and they freeze halfway down his face.

his hand goes forward, digs down, and pulls him forward. his fist full of snow and his arm covered in ice, he wishes just once that his friends would pity him and hold him in their arms to keep him warm as they load him into the truck and turn the heat down low, almost to air, so he doesnt go into shock from the temperature change. he only wishes on it once, because then maybe it will show how much he wants this. hes never wished before, so maybe just making one will make it important enough to deliver upon.

tyler takes a break, just a small one, at the thought. his head goes down and rests on his arm, hiding a deafened ear from the cold wind.

it was only supposed to be a small break, but its dark when he tries to open his eyes. his eyelashes froze together, and he cant do anything about it. hes blinded, now, and if he cries the tears will freeze under his eyes. his bones rattle as he breathes in, pushes his hand forward, and continues to crawl.

.

blinded. deafened. numbed. hunger is nothing to the cold. his senses feel dumbed down and he opens his mouth to do anything - say anything - breathe - but his skin cracks, and something spills down his chin.

its cold, too, and he knows it will freeze on his skin just like everything else on his body has.

it doesnt stop him, though, and he takes a shaky breath in and clenches his eyes. raises his cold fist, drops it into the snow, and screams.

its deep and guttural, laced with pain and anger. it hurt to do, and tyler finally pulls his arm close to his chest, and assumes the fetal position. shoves his hands under his armpits, and tucks his head into his knees.

slow and steady wins the race, and despite being the tortoise, tyler has decided to rest like the hare did

.

its silent and there is no wind. there is no new cold snow pressing down on his skin, just leftovers from the last fall. tyler has not moved, and hes thinking about his wish. he doesnt remember if he said please, so he tacks it onto the long since whispered wish. he begs. he does not wish again, but he will beg for his wish to be heard and not ignored.

he does not want to die.

he has dogs to care for.

he has friends to bother.

wildcat does not want to die.

.

theres the sound of snow crunching somewhere in the world around him. he begs, and he pleads for it to be his friends.

he feels something wet on his face, a nose, and it moves on.

it was just a deer.

.

theres voices this time, and tyler begs mutely into the air again.

he does not know that there is nobody there.

.

voices surround him. a deer and its baby had slept by tyler that night. a bit of warmth pressed against his back, and he wishes it was panda. the man always ran warmer than some of the other people at the base.

.

his ears pick up the sound of a motor. he begs, a little less, a bit more quiet. theres voices, and the vehicle drives right over him and for a minute hes sure he was not seen. the vehicle stops ahead of him, and doors slam open. metal on metal, the sound of fabric, the sound of delirious yelling. the sound of delirious sounds like heaven, and tyler says a small thank you to whoever grants wishes.  
theres hands brushing snow off him, hands exploring his body. legs, arms, face, neck, back, chest. delirious is whispering to him. that hes okay. that he wont let him go. evan is barking commands at someone. someone lifts him up, oh so carefully. as if he himself is ice, and they can not move him or his body will break into pieces.

theres a blast of warmer air as hes lifted into the vehicle. it drifts over him, barely able to penetrate the icepack clothing he has on his body. hes settled into someones lap, sideways and his cheek meets bare skin when his head is gently moved to rest on a shoulder.

pandas voice washes over him, calm and the embodiment of hot chocolate speech.

hours into the ride, and he starts shaking again. his tears and blood are unfroze and he moves a frozen hand under pandas arm by himself. panda rocks him slowly, and wraps a new blanket over tylers shoulders.

.

kryoz helps cut his clothes off and peel them slowly from his skin. his arms have the worst of it, and kryoz presses his own warm hands over places where tylers clothes catch on his skin to melt final ice layers. brock hung up a blanket between tyler himself and the rest of the back of the truck to keep heat isolated around him.

panda sets him down, and dresses. tyler opens his eyes and watches with glossy eyes. kryoz cuts his pants off, and then his leggings. his boots are cut, and so are his socks. hes left naked side from his boxers, then dried off with a warm towel he assumes they held infront of a heater for a bit. kryoz dresses him in leggings and sweats, and panda goes to warm up after holding an ice cube for hours. hes given a turtle neck and a hoodie to wear.

panda sits across from him still, and when he opens his mouth another five hours into the ride, panda listens well.

tyler says, let me see what spring is like.

panda smiles, holds tylers hands between his, and promises to take tyler to see all of spring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tyler doesnt like snow that much.

**Author's Note:**

> i know its short but its more of a side project thats a bit less hard to write so i hope yall enjoy it anyways.  
> i know its also kinda rough, but hopefully as i write more the scenes are told smoother and end up more how i hope they come out :D


End file.
